


Three

by subplotter



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: A little bit of Post Traumatic Stress, Dubious Consent, M/M, Other, Pack Dynamics, Peter is just being creepy basically and Isaac is a subby little baby, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-04
Updated: 2013-06-04
Packaged: 2017-12-13 23:19:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/830014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/subplotter/pseuds/subplotter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beta wolves weren't meant to sleep alone.</p><p>OR</p><p>Isaac is having trouble getting over the whole getting kidnapped by the Alpha pack thing, and Peter wants to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three

**Author's Note:**

> Set after the first episode of Season 3.

It wasn't as if he thought about how lovely it was to be helpless _while_ he was helpless. It was after the fact, when his head had caught up, and even then, it was mostly an analysis of his own guilt. The drugs had clouded a lot of things, but they said Scott had saved him. And Isaac wondered, if he asked in the right way, if Scott could make him feel like that girl had. Commands frantic but sure, reprimands when he'd failed. They said the Alphas had killed her. They said the Alphas were after Scott.

Isaac felt his Alpha's presence like waves lapping at the beach.  But no matter how many straight-forward statements Derek put in his head, the murkiness there refused to come clean.  Derek's comfort was like alcohol to werewolf bloodstreams; it didn't do a damn thing.

"He needs something more, Derek.  He needs touch."

"I think I know what my betas need."

They spoke about him like that often, Peter and Derek.  Erica and Boyd weren't here.  They had failed them.  They didn't want to fail Isaac.  Or maybe they argued merely due to mutual short fuses.  Isaac could hardly trust his instincts anymore.  More often than not, he feared he found love where love did not exist.

And perhaps he had done that here, because what Isaac did and did not need became a tabled discussion.  Derek and Peter were older, more experienced; they did not ask Isaac's input on very many things.  Peter didn't ask for it even when the two were alone that night, when Isaac dreamt of female Alphas who weren't there to take care of him but who, in the perception of a dug-addled head, had seemed like they were.

Peter pulled him awake with claws at his shoulder.  They didn't pierce, but Isaac grew alert at the near-violent touch.  Peter so often masquiered as potential threats.

"Is there something wrong?" said Isaac, trying to sit up, but Peter pushed him down with a declawed hand at the his chest.  In the dark, his eyes flashed blue but went un-feral again in a moment.

"Nothing's wrong," he said.  He cocked his head.  "Except for whatever's wrong with you."

It felt like an insult, like most of the things Peter said.  Isaac turned his head and scrunched up his face.

"It's alright," said Peter.  "I won't hurt you."

"You're pack."

"Yes.  And it leaves me unsettled to have you unsettled, in an instinctual way and in the way that your little dream whimpers won't let me sleep."

But no, it didn't feel like an insult; it felt like a reprimand.  When Peter turned Isaac's head for him, Isaac said, "I'm sorry."

"No, no, no.  Shh."

Peter stopped touching him so he could come onto the bed, a queen-sized one that Isaac would share with Boyd and Erica when they came back.  Beta wolves weren't meant to sleep alone, and though Peter did, Isaac sometimes wondered if it hurt him.  Derek said that pride was worse than weakness.

Pulling the covers back, Peter slipped against Isaac's side and curled into it, his nose pressing to his temple and taking in air.

"Peter--"

"Relax."

But it was just that Isaac was afraid of older men.  The hand circling over his stomach was a gentle one, though, even if Peter's stubble was rough against his neck.  For the other wolf was transferring scents, nuzzling where Isaac was weakest.  Isaac tilted his head back and bared his throat.

Peter groaned.  "This is your problem, Isaac.  You submit to everyone."

The words twisted Isaac's stomach, and he was left backtracking.  He hadn't meant to bare his throat; it was instinct, only.

"You're pack," said Isaac, his voice breaking this time.

Peter laughed against Isaac's neck, small puffs of air hitting the skin.  Isaac tried to turn his head down, but Peter held his jaw with an upturned hand, said, "Too late."  Helplessness clouded Isaac's chest and sped his heart up.

But that wasn't good because Peter felt that.  And he let go of Isaac's jaw and curled into him a little lifelessly.  "I'm sorry," he said.  "The intent is to give you comfort so you can sleep."  And then he was just a heaviness, a solid form against Isaac's ribs and hip.

Though Peter's presence did lend a safety, Isaac wasn't sure he'd made the mark.  In the dreams he drifted into, Peter was above him, saying, "Count with me, Isaac.  One, two..."

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on Tumblr @ itmeanstomarksomething


End file.
